


The Night Is Young

by Lavendergaia



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-31
Updated: 2014-10-31
Packaged: 2018-02-23 09:34:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2542847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavendergaia/pseuds/Lavendergaia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jemma and Fitz prepare to take their kids trick-or-treating.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Night Is Young

“Mummy, mummy, my bowtie is loose!”

Jemma turned around from where she was loading the last of the dinner dishes into the dishwasher. “I told you not to roughhouse in your costume, Benjamin,” she admonished gently. Kneeling down so that she was eye-level with the five-year-old, she took the ends of the bowtie in each of her hands, tying it tighter this time. “There you are.”

He grinned at her and she couldn’t help but ruffle his curls before he batted her hand away. “Is it almost time to go?”

“Just a minute, just a minute,” she said, scanning the kitchen for any leftover plates or dishes that needed to be cleaned up. Satisfied that everything had been straightened, she said, “Do you have your trick-or-treat bag?”

Benjamin bounced excitedly in his loafers. “It’s upstairs!”

Kissing his forehead, Jemma said, “Go and get it and we’ll leave in a few minutes.”

Her son took off at a run, tearing past his father as Fitz came into the kitchen. “Don’t forget your sonic,” he called after Benjamin, shaking his head in amusement. “Jack o’ lantern has been lit and I put our bowl of candy outside for the trick-or-treaters to demolish.”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” she said and wiped down the counter with a damp cloth.

Wrapping his arms around Jemma’s waist from behind, Fitz kissed her shoulder. “Sometimes I’m not sure what we’re teaching that boy.”

“Oh, not this again.”

“We say he can be any Doctor he wants and he chooses Eleven.” Fitz sighed; Jemma just rolled her eyes and wrung out the rag, considering hitting her husband with it before she hung it to dry. “I mean, Ten has a perfectly iconic outfit and a much better sonic, if you ask me.”

“He’s allowed to make his own decisions,” Jemma said, turning in Fitz’s arms and wrapping her own around his neck before pressing a kiss to his chin. “Even if those decisions do not include David Tennant.” She raised an eyebrow at his pout. “And if we’re going to get into yet another argument about our children’s costumes, allow me to bring up Annabeth yet again.”

Fitz scoffed, affronted. “I don’t know why you have such a problem with our daughter wanting to be Iron Man.”

“That’s not what I have a problem with.” Jemma pinched his side. “I have a problem with you building our daughter an exact replica of the Mark VII.”

“She won best costume at school!”

“You gave our eight-year-old lasers!”

“They are set to stun! Look, I emailed Tony Stark asking for models I could use for a mock up and when he sent me actual models, that’s not a gift you do absolutely nothing with.” When Jemma continued to look unimpressed, he nuzzled her jaw with his nose. “You know, this wouldn’t be an issue if we had just gotten monkeys instead of kids like I suggested.”

Laughing despite herself, she shook her head. “You’re a prat.”

“Yeah, well, this prat loves you and our kids very much,” he said, kissing her tenderly. “Have I mentioned that you look extremely gorgeous in your Hermione Granger costume?” Fitz moved the Gryffindor scarf away from her neck so he could kiss her there, dragging his teeth across the sensitive skin.

Eyes closing at the sensation, Jemma whispered, “I know you’re just trying to change the subject.”

He pressed kisses behind her ear and her knees weakened. “And how’s that working for you?”

“Can you guys stop kissing so we can go?”

Jemma and Fitz turned to see their kids watching them: Annabeth had her arms crossed over her chest the best she could in her Iron Man armor and Benjamin’s tie had come undone already. Jemma sighed. “Oh, Benji.” She gave Fitz a quick kiss before moving to fix her son’s costume again.

Grabbing his key ring from the hook next to the kitchen door, Fitz said, “You’re right, Annabeth, let’s get out of here before all the good candy’s gone. Or before your mother remembers what’s actually in all that stuff.” Jemma shot him a look which he ignored as he held up one of Annabeth’s arms. “Flashlight on,” he commanded and the palm of her armor emitted a beam of LED light. “See,” he said, smirking at Jemma. “It’s useful too.”

Rolling her eyes at him, Jemma doubled checked that both kids had their candy bags and Benjamin had his sonic screwdriver before herding them out the front door. As Fitz hung back to lock up, she took a second to admire him in his Han Solo costume. The kids ran to the house next door to collect the first batch of candy, and she wrapped her arm around her husband’s waist, leaning against his side. “So,” Jemma said, kissing the underside of his chin, “how about when the kids finally pass out from their processed sugar intake, you and I do some trick-or-treating of our own?”

“Oh yeah?” Seeing the grin on her face, Fitz couldn’t help but lean in and kiss her hard. “I say Happy Halloween to that.”  


End file.
